Flames
by The.Dragon.Singer
Summary: Spica; a lethal, flirty femme with temper problems. She's landed on Earth, and she's been taken back to the Nemesis for medical attention. Knockout; a sexy, vain mech with paint problems. He's in charge of Spica's medical attention. Somehow, Spica's managed to piss off Starscream, worm her way into the Decepticon ranks, and prove that she'll kick anyone's afts. KO/OC


Spica growled to herself, flicking several switches as her small vessel careened towards the blue and green planet's surface.

"Where is that fragging button!?" She yelled, smacking the console. Her brilliant silver optics fell upon a small green button and she mashed a sharp metallic finger into it. The signal systems lit up, acknowledging the fact she's sent out the distress beacon with a cheerful beep.

Spica shuttered her optics with a tired sigh, glancing down at the horrible patch job she had given herself when injured about an orn ago. It was still dripping Energon, but at a much slower rate then it was two solar cycles ago.

The femme lifted a hand to the navigational screen, selecting autopilot before she submitted to the warnings flashing against her HUD, explaining the reasons of the immediate medical stasis she would be subjected to.

When her optics onlined again, throwing the broken console before her in silver light, the femme snarled, released the straps holding her in as Energon gushed to the floor of her broken ship.

The golden femme growled, subspacing her arm cannon which was used to blast a hole in the side. Dirt spilled into the vessel, and Spica wrinkled her nose as she stepped out, where her leg gave way.

It wasn't long before a bulky green figure appeared, quickly followed by a red and white one.

Spica let a smile cross her face.

"There. The neutral is there." The red and white one pointed, lifting his optics from his scanner. "And still _alive_."

"I know that paint!" The bulky green one grinned, lumbering over. "Gold with blue flames! Spica, it's good to see you."

"Stop acting so cheerful, you afthole. I'm leaking." She glared, but her glare was lost to the grinning Wrecker.

"Bulkhead, watch the perimeter while I help her. Spica needs immediate medical attention." The red and white one stepped forward.

"Sweeet~!" Both the mechs glanced behind them, narrowing their eyes at the little squishy femme who pranced up behind them, holding what appeared to be a small comm link up. "Another femme bot! What's your name!? Do you have cannons?! How does Bulkhead know you!?"

"What is..._that_?" Spica stared, wincing as Ratchet tweaked a sensitive wire.

"_She_ is a human. Her name is _Miko_, and she _shouldn't_ be here." Ratchet growled.

"You think I'm gonna miss some Con smashing?! No way! Say cheese!" Miko grinned, lifting her cellphone and snapping a picture.

"You brought along your squishy pet."

Spica's optics slid past Ratchet to the other side of the clearing she'd crashed in, and she chuckled.

"Never thought I'd see you again, Breakdown." She grinned at the blue mech who stared at her. Her gaze narrowed thoughtfully as she gazed at his red partner. "Who's your friend?"

"Smash 'em, Bulk!" Miko yelled, lifting a fist into the air.

"Gladly!" The green Wrecker snarled, subspacing his wrecking ball.

"It's hammer time." Breakdown growled.

"Ugh." Spica's snort made them turn their attention to her. "You _still_ going on with that feud of yours? Seriously, get over it. Breakdown took your freaking toy, and then you took his. Stop arguing over it like the sparklings you apparently are. And be careful, Doc, because that hurts!"

The group stared at her.

"What!? I'm an starving angry injured neutral femme! And it hurts, slag it!" Spica snarled.

"Neutral?" Breakdown turned to his partner, who had finally spoken. "I believe this changes our priorities."

"Would some on fix my leg!? Please?" Spica sighed, allowing her head to smack into the dirt.

"Allow me, sweetspark. My materials are back on the Nemesis." The red mech smiled, placing a hand on his chest and bowing slightly.

"I'd feel better in a Med-Bay than laying here in this _dirt_." She snorted.

"Knockout, this is _my_ patient!"

"Ratchet, let's get 'em." Bulkhead's blue optics narrowed.

* * *

Spica growled, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The four mechs had been going at each other for a good _four_ breems, and she was sick of bleeding out.

She subspaced her cannon and grabbed hold of the side of her ship, hauling herself upright.

"You would go with the Cons?" Miko asked from beside her foot.

"Yes. I am a neutral; the _only_ neutral Wrecker, in fact. And as a neutral, I could tip the scales of who's winning. I'll go with whoever makes a better offer, and at the moment, it seems to be Break and Red. And just because I've not chosen a faction does not mean I can't. The Cons have a warship, Energon, and a clean Med-Bay. I will take my leave with them." Spica took a step forward and lifted her cannon.

Miko covered her eyes as two shots fired, and when she opened them, the fighting pairs had been separated.

"Who's in charge?" The golden femme narrowed her eyes at Breakdown.

"Starscream believes himself in charge." The blue mech answered, subspacing his hammer. A glowing green portal opened behind the red mech and he smiled, gesturing to it.

"Your Space Bridge awaits."

"Bout time, Red." Spica took several careful steps forward and practically fell into Knockout's arms.

"Well, I knew I was good looking, but I've never had a femme trip herself into my arms." He scooped her up and Spica hissed as he brushed her wound. "Breakdown, let's go."

Spica's silver optics narrowed as she placed her head on Knockout's shoulder, warnings flashing against her HUD before she fell into emergency stasis again.

* * *

"So what's up with her?" Knockout nodded to the femme on his medical berth, nimble fingers patching up her legs while an IL-drip fed Drift Energon.

"Spica was a Wrecker femme." Breakdown handed the medic a welder. "She was second-in-command of the most lethal unit; they were called the Reapers."

"I heard rumors of them, back on Cybertron. The unit was made just after the war started."

"Yeah." The blue mech nodded. "Spica was SIC of the Reapers. She was deadly; could sneak into most mech's berth rooms without so much as a hiss. Most of them could. But Wreckers are known for being loud, so their skills were shunned at first, before the war."

"There were six of them; Swiftclaw, Spica, Ghostknocker, Undertaker, Swiftshadow and Smother. She was the only femme in the group, and they were like family. But Megatron wanted to get his servos on the group. I remember that-"

"Slowly," Spica croaked, optics dim as she glared at Breakdown. "They got picked off, one by one. First Swiftclaw, then Smother, Swiftshadow, and Ghostknocker. Undertaker and I were the only ones left; glitchy old mech. And then they came; the Enforcers. The Enforcers announced that we were to be taken into custody for murdering one of the politicians. We didn't do it, and back then it could have been anyone. So Undertaker and I put up a fight, and we got away. We were in hiding when the Enforcers came again, and the Combaticons showed up. Undertaker made them take me away, and I watched as my grand-opi figure was slaughtered by the Autobots."

"So why didn't you join the Decepticons, my dear?" Knockout purred as he buffed her leg, smoothing the dents out.

"Easy; I wanted to know who did it. Who killed the politician? So I did some digging. I went undercover as a data caste intern, and hacked the systems of the politicians home. It was a mech called Quickdeath, a Con. I hunted him down, and I killed him." Spica hummed, optics lazy as the buffer sent its vibrations into her aching leg struts. "I've been traveling around ever since."

"How exactly did you get injured?" Breakdown scowled, yellow optics focused on welding a small scrape on her arm.

"Run in with Quickdeath's twin, Moonshadow. I killed her too, but she was a neutral like me."

The door slid open and Spica lazily let her optics slid to it, lifting an optic ridge as Starscream stalked through. He smirked at her, striding around to rest by her face.

"Nice femme hips." She chuckled, making Starscream growl.

"I am the Decepticon leader here, femme. You'd do best to remember that! What is she doing here!?"

"She was wounded, so we brought her back. We had a little...scuffle with two of the Autobots." Knockout shrugged.

"Starscream! Don't run off on us like that!" Another two Seekers appeared in the door way. Knockout's optic twitched and he pressed the buffer into Spica's leg a bit harder than necessary. She purred, stretching her arms above her head while her optics flicked.

The mech's optics were drawn to her stretching figure, focusing on the cords under her chassis and abdominal armor. Knockout repeated his movement.

"Are you going to buff me? Or can I go?" Spica purred, casting a heavy look at all of them. "I don't really mind an audience."

Breakdown snorted. "She's back to normal."

"Breakdown, sweetspark, I'm not normal. I'm divine." Spica winked, flicking his pelvic armor. "You've just never had the pleasure of trying me out."

"What the frag?" Starscream shuttered his optics in surprise.

"Spica gets a little...temperamental when she doesn't get fed for a while, or she's injured. Combine the two...it's bad. But the moment, her tanks are full and she's not injured, or she's serious...She goes back to this."

"I can make us match, you know." Spica turned her facial plates to Starscream, grinning. She concentrated for a moment and her paint rippled. Her blue flames turned maroon and her gold turned silver.

"A Chameleon." The Seekers blinked, staring.

"_Cool_!" The purple and black mech laughed.

"Well, this changes things." Starscream watched as she returned to her original colors. "My dear, I extend to you the full Decepticon hospitality."

"The good kind? Or the bad kind?" Knockout smirked.

"The good kind, you imbecile! Thundercracker, Skywarp, we are leaving!"

"Bye-bye, Fly-Guy~!" Spica wiggled her fingers at Starscream as he left before returning her attention to the medic and his assistant. "Are you going to stand there or buff my paint? I haven't had a good buffing in a long time."


End file.
